The Femchesters
by SuperPotterWhoMerLock
Summary: During a particularly gruesome case, Sam and Dean use a spell to take the form of women, to enable them to fit the preferences of the spirit of a serial killer. But, how will the boys cope with the changes? After all, the preference is brunettes with sophisticated glamor and style. P.S: I'm a Brit, so sorry for any bad use of your American words ;)
1. Prologue

Sophie let out a much-needed sigh as she stepped through the door of her small flat; why couldn't Rob just except that things were over between them? The man had been pestering her all day to forgive him and take him back, but how could she do that when he had been seeing her best friend behind her back? She hated them both!

The brunette locked the door before collapsing onto her couch and switching the TV on; what she needed now was a corny sit-com and a good Chinese takeout. She'd just picked up her phone, ready to dial the company's number, when the light above her began to flicker on and off, along with the TV.

_Great_, she thought as she slapped the box, _Could this day possibly get any worse?_

Luckily, the slap seemed to have worked and the flickering settled again. She had managed to dial the number at last, when a creaking sounded behind her. She whipped around, her brown hair swirling behind her.

"Hello," she called; she'd locked the door, hadn't she? "Anybody there?"

No answer. She settled back down into her plush cushions, thinking it was just her cat, Sibby.

And that was when she felt a cold hand grab her from behind.

She shrieked and struggled, the stranger pulling on her hair. Then the blows came.

She cried out in agony as the man hit her repeatedly, with something hard and blunt. The blood gushed down her forehead, matting her hair. And then everything went black...


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural bla, bla bla bla BLAAAAA**

* * *

The Winchester brothers entered a cafe, hoping to stop for a bite to eat, before searching for more cases. While Sam ordered the food, Dean wondered over to the cafe's TV and flicked on the news. Immediately, the news reader's voice blared out of the speakers:

"Earlier today, desk clerk, Sophie McMillan, was found dead in her flat, with injuries to her face and head. We have reports of all the doors and windows being locked from the inside, however, her ex-boyfriend, Robert Jones, has been arrested on the suspicion of her murder."

"Think we should check it out?" Sam asked, as he joined Dean at the table

"Might as well," his brother replied. "But first, I need to get me some pie!"

Sam rolled his eyes.

* * *

One car journey and Dean's annoying singing later, they were outside the victims flat. Police tape covered the doors, and police officers were keeping a crowd of people at bay.

Dean opened the glove compartment and fished out the fake FBI ID (they had already changed into their suits in the cafe toilets). The brother steps out of the Impala and made their way through the crowd.

"Evening, officer," said Dean, his usual, quirky smile plastered onto his face, as he approached one of the police men.

"And you are..?"

"I'm Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamill," Sam interrupted, his voice layered with authority as he held up his card for the officer to see.

The man examined it closely. "Alright, go on in," he said, eventually.

The two brothers entered the room and immediately spotted the pool of blood on the floor, where the body had been found. The forensics team were wondering around, taking anything that could be called 'evidence' and, sat in the corner, there was a young woman who had tears pouring down her pretty face and was holding tightly onto a fluffy gray cat.

"You must be the person who found the body," Sam said, walking up to the woman. The girl nodded her head a wiped away some of her tears. "I'm Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamill," he continued, gently. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright." She nodded her head. "What's your name?" Sam asked.

"L-Lindsey," the girl stuttered

"And what's your relationship to Sophie?"

"S-she is... w-was one of my best friends. I live across from her."

"How did you find the body, Lindsey?" asked Dean, his face void of emotion.

"T-this morning," she started. "I went round to borrow some sugar, but sh-she wasn't answering the door. It's not like her, you know?" Sam nodded, motioning for her to continue. "S-so I went to get the spare key, and... And..." she trailed off, fresh tears pouring down her face.

"It's alright," Sam said, gently, bending down so he was at her eye level. "We'll find out who it was and stop them, OK?" Lindsey nodded and gave him a half-hearted smile. Sam stood and turned to Dean. "Come on, we've got some research to do."


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own SPN, yada, yada**

* * *

Fat dripped from the pieces of deep-fried pork as the hotel bed vibrated beneath Dean. He shoved the meat into his already-full mouth and licked the grease off his fingers. Bliss. Of course, it had to be spoiled by his annoying little brother, who let out an annoyed whine.

"Dean! How many times? Can you not eat your..." he paused, trying to work out what the hell his brother was eating. "...stuff on _my_ bed?!"

"Got anything, Sammy?" Dean said, ignoring the taller man.

Sam sighed, giving up. "Twelve women have died in that flat over the past forty years, in similar circumstances. All had brown hair and sophisticated jobs," he said, scanning over the information on his laptop.

"Ah, so our spirit has a favorite," said Dean, after swallowing a mouthful of meat. "Any idea who it could be, yet?"

"Give me a minute." Sam said.

Sam searched the web for anything related to flat 213c on Elm Street, while Dean put another quarter into the vibrating machine. After about an hour of intense research, on Sam's part, the younger Winchester perked up.

"Dean, I think I've got something!" Sam exclaimed. His older brother rolled off the bed and came to join him at the table, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the screen. "See!" Sam continued. "The flat is renowned as the home of the serial killer, Daniel Finch. In his time, he killed over thirty different women, all brunettes with a sense of sophistication and style. He was only found out after he died."

"So you think this Finch guy is continuing his work beyond the grave." Dean concluded.

"Looks like it."

"Great," Dean said. "Where's he buried."

Sam scanned through some more information, before his face fell. "He wasn't," he said. "He was cremated."

"Well, something must have been left behind." Dean said, quickly.

Sam scanned the page. "I know, but there's nothing on here to suggest what it was."

"Well," said Dean, reluctant to lose hope. "We'll just have to get a look at this son-of-a-bitch and find out what it was. Didn't that Lindsey girl have brown hair?"

"Dean! We can't use an innocent woman as bait." Sam argued.

"Well, what do you suggest we do then, wise-guy?"


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own SPN, though you probably know that by now.**

* * *

"You guys want to what, now?!" exclaimed Bobby, hoping he had misheard the two men seated in front of him.

"We want to turn into women." Sam forced out, annoyed that he had to repeat the embarrassing sentence. Dean could have at least backed him up; all the older Winchester did was stare at the floor, keeping his mouth shut.

"Um... OK," said Bobby, hesitantly, realizing he had not misheard. "Why?"

"It's for a case," said Dean, annoyed that the conversation had to last this long. "It was Sam's idea."

"Better than using an innocent woman as bait!" Sam retorted, angrily. Dean shrugged.

"Right..." said Bobby, looking between the two brothers. "I go and see what I've got."

Dean shot Sam another glare, for what they were about to do, while Bobby searched through his many books.

"I think I've got something, boys." The older man said, returning to the table and slamming a huge book down, narrowly avoiding Sam's fingers. He flicked through a few pages, before stopping and reading through a spell. "You're lucky, boys, we've got all the ingredients right here," he said, before wondering off again to collect them, while Sam swiveled the book around to read the page.

* * *

An hour later, Dean was getting fidgety and started pacing around the room. "How long does this thing take?!" he exclaimed, wanting to get it over with.

"These things take time, Dean," said Sam, trying to retain his patience. "It'll be ready in a minute."

He and Bobby spread out the pentagram cloth over the table, before setting the stone bowl, with the ingredients, in the centre and lighting five candles around it. Sam and Dean took seats around the table placed their hands on the surface.

"Ready?" asked Bobby, picking up the book. Sam and Dean nodded, simultaneously, before closing their eyes to prepare. "Suit yourselves," he said, before reading:

"**Praecipio tibi in nomine angeli Barachiel fiery etc. Inoboediret naturae. Permuto generum factus feminam." **

He finished and looked up. Sam and Dean opened their eyes and looked at each other. They were exactly the same as they were before.

"Um, maybe you said something wrong," said Sam.

"I now how to pronounce Latin, boy," snapped Bobby. "I speak it almost every day."

"Well, you must have done something wro..." Dean trailed off, suddenly feeling very sick. He clapped a hand over his mouth and ran to the bathroom.

"What's up with him?" Bobby wondered out load. Receiving no answer, he turned to the younger Winchester brother, before realising that Sam had turned a sickly shade of green. "Sam, are you alright?" Bobby said, alarmed.

"I..." Sam started, then promptly fainted.

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS:**

**Thanks to:**

**AMPGrl88, Blackmokona666, Bunnykiss, ghfan22222 and izziwizVIII for favouriting.**

**Avalonemyst, Blackmokona666, Bunnykiss, CandyCakes, Nemix, OtakTouch, PrettyGirlyFan and izziwizVIII for following**

**Bunnykiss and izziwizVIII for reviewing**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own SPN. I'm so tired of saying that, I can't think of anything witty to say with it anymore.**

**These chapters are so short, I just had to put another one up today ;)  
**

* * *

"Sam... Sam..."

Sam opened his eyes, to see Bobby staring down at him, looking half-concerned, half-amused.

"What hap...?" Sam started, but stopped when his voice came out oddly high-pitched. "Oh, God!" He leapt to his feet and nearly tripped over his now incredibly baggy trousers, before running to the mirror. He nearly fainted, again. Staring back at him was a shocked-looking woman, with high cheek-bones, bright eyes and an even tan, with long, dark brown hair falling over her shoulders. Quite beautiful (if Sam did say so himself). Gone was the five day stubble, gone were the muscular arms... Sam Winchester was now a woman.

He looked down at himself. His clothes were hanging off him; he must have shrunk about six inches. The Winchester also noticed, with a distinctive blush, the new bulges in his chest and the looseness of his boxer shorts.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, still in shock.

"Sammy?" came a female voice from the bathroom. "Um, just a minute, I'm just... Um..."

"Oh God, Dean, please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing."

The door to the bathroom slowly opened and a woman came out, hitching her jeans up and looking a little perplexed. Sam noted, with glee, that he was still taller.

"Sam, look at us," the new female Dean said, standing in front of the mirror. "We're _hot_."

Sam looked at his reflection for a moment or two, trying to ignore Bobby's snickering in the background. "Yeah," he finally breathed out, before turning to Dean. "I think we need to go shopping."

Dean looked down at his over-sized clothes, before nodding his head in agreement.

* * *

One car drive later, the brothers were standing in a store, in the middle of the female-underwear section, trying to keep their pants from falling down and looking around, awkwardly.

"So, got any idea what to do?" asked Dean

"Nope," said Sam.

"I think I'm about a 36E," said Dean, looking down at his chest.

"How do you even know that?!" exclaimed his younger brother. Dean scoffed. "Never mind." said Sam, remembering just how many women Dean had been with. "What size do you reckon I am?"

Dean glanced over. "'Bout a 38E, maybe."

"It'll do," said Sam. "Come on."

After about an hour of squabbling, awkwardly searching through the makeup section and deciding what size they were, the boys (or girls, depending on your point of view) were standing at the till.

"Um, _Hector_ Aframian?" the check-out lady asked, looking down at the fake credit card, confused.

"It's, um, it's my boyfriend's," said Dean, quickly, while Sam nodded, vigorously.

"Right..." the woman said, still a little suspicious.

The brothers quickly got their bags and left, but not before ducking into the toilets and changing into more fitted clothes.

"Well that wasn't awkward or anything," said Dean, sarcastically, dumping the bags into the boot of the Impala. "This day could not possibly get any worse. Man, I need a drink."

"Me, too," said Sam. "I think we passed a bar on the way."

"Well, let's get going then," said Dean and, simultaneously, the Winchesters ducked into the car, slammed the doors and buckled their seat-belts, before heading off.

* * *

**Te Hee Hee**

**You'll love the next chapter BTW; plenty of awkwardness for the boys... girls...um... I don't even know anymore :P**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I sadly do not own SPN**

**So, so, so sorry for the long wait! I've been so busy and lazy lately.**

* * *

"Two beers, please," Sam told the bartender, whilst taking a seat beside Dean. The golden liquid was placed in front of them and the boys/girls took grateful swigs.

"Hello, there. What's your name?" A man interrupted, taking a seat next to Dean, his voice full of flirtation as he quirked an eyebrow at the older Winchester.

"Dean," Dean said, automatically. "Err... short for Deanna." He added, quickly, really wanting to punch his little brother in the face for his incessant snickering.

"I'm Eric," The man replied. "How about I buy you a drink?"

"Whoa, I don't swing that way!" Dean said, without thinking.

Eric blanched. "Oh, God, sorry! Are you two... um...?" He gestured between Sam and Dean.

"What?! No!" Sam exclaimed. "We're just broth... sisters! Deanna, here, was just kidding!"

"What? So, you are free?" Eric said, looking back at Dean, a little puzzled.

"No!" Dean yelled, far too quickly. "I mean... um... err..."

"She's got a boyfriend," Sam interrupted, calmly.

"Yeah... Wait, what?!" Dean said, snapping round to face his brother.

"Yeah, Deanna. Wouldn't want to cheat on Castiel, would you?" Sam said, smirking at Dean, before turning back to Eric. "Those two are just perfect together," he gushed, putting on his best girly voice. "Cass is such an _angel, _right, Deanna?"

"Uh, yeah!" said Dean, putting on a very forced smile.

"Right, well," Eric said, getting up and looking a little disappointed. "I'll be off then."

As soon as he was gone, Dean took the opportunity to slap Sam on the head. "Cass?! Seriously?!"

Sam shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. "First guy I could think of."

"Right, well, if anyone asks, you're dating a certain someone called Gabriel," Dean retorted.

"What?! He's not even alive anymore!" Sam exclaimed.

"No one's gonna know that, now, are they, _Samantha_?"

"But..."

Unfortunately, he was interrupted by a female yell.

"You just can't stand that I'm finally doing better than Sophie, can you?!" A tall brunette shouted at her companion, whom the boys recognised as Lindsey.

"Better?! She's dead!" cried Lindsey, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Hey, hey, break it up!" Dean shouted, just as the other girl opened her mouth to yell back. The boys shoved their way in between them to break up the fight. The girl scowled at them, before huffing and walking off.

"What was that about?" asked Sam, turning to Lindsey, who was sitting with her head in her hands.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "It's just my friend, Sophie, just died and everything's just going wrong..."

"Wait, Sophie McMillan?" asked Sam, putting on his awesome acting skills. "I heard about that; our brothers work for the FBI."

Lindsey looked up. "Oh, yeah. I met them. I can see the resemblance. Agents Ford and Hamill, wasn't it?"

"That's right," said Dean. "Hey, do you know who that girl was?" He gestured to the door which the brunette had just walked out of.

"Oh, that's Britney Jones," said Lindsey, her face twisting in disgust. "She's such a stuck-up bitch!"

"Why's that?" said Sam, as he and Dean took seats beside her.

"She was cheating with Sophie's boyfriend, that's why!" Lindsey exclaimed. "And now she wants to take Sophie's flat, as well!"

"What?!" Sam and Dean both exclaimed, simultaneously.

"She wants to take Sophie's flat," Lindsey repeated, confused. "Why, did you want it?"

The brothers looked at each other. "You know what," said Dean. "It's getting late, we'd better be off."

Sam nodded, in agreement. "Yup. See you later, Lindsey."

"Wait, how did you know my name?" Lindsey called after them, but the brothers had already gone.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who faved, reviewed and followed last time! You're all awesome X infinity! Apart from IzzwizVIII! BITCH XD ;)**

**Anyway, see that little box down there? It needs some love. It's all lonely, without anything to fill it... ;)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own SPN**

**P.S: I'm sorry that I'm so lazy; it is the family curse :P**

* * *

The metallicar screeched to a halt outside 213 Elm Street, in time for the boys/girls to see a 'sold' sign being nailed up.

"Crap," Dean cursed.

The brothers/sisters leaped out of the car, simultaneously, and ran up to the worker.

"Hey! What do you mean it's sold already?" Sam exclaimed, as the man turned around.

"We had a good offer on it," he said, sticking his thumb out towards the front door, where none other than Britney Jones was walking out. Sam and Dean ran over to her, blocking her path.

She looked up and, as soon as she saw who was blocking her path, her face moulded into a look of disgust. "What are you doing here?"

"You can't buy the flat!" Sam said, quickly.

"Well, here's a news-flash, freak, I've already bought it," Britney said, gesturing towards the sold sign.

"Yeah, but, you don't have to move in right now do you?" said Dean, hopefully.

"Why? Planning on stealing something? There's nothing in that house but Sophie's old junk, which I plan on getting rid of, as soon as possible." The brunette snapped.

"No, it's just that... well... a girl was murdered there, the other day, aren't you a little creeped out?" said Sam.

"Sophie got what was coming to her, and it's not like her ghost will come back to haunt me. If that's what you were thinking, I suggest you check yourself into a mental asylum."

"Hey! Don't talk to him... her that way!" Dean exclaimed, stepping in front of his little brother, protectively.

"I say what I want," Britney retorted, bringing herself to her full height, which wasn't very much. "What're you gonna do about it?"

"Listen, you little bitch, watch your mouth or I'll..."

"Dean!" Sam interrupted, putting a hand on his brother's arm. "Leave it."

Dean yanked his arm away from Sam and, with one last glare at Britney, stormed back to the Impala. Sam followed suit.

"Dean, what is with you?" Sam asked, taking a seat in the shotgun. "You don't normally loose your temper that quickly."

"I'm fine!" Dean snapped, shoving one of his cassettes into the player.

"OK," said Sam, in surrender. "Maybe we should just go back to the hotel and come back later."

"Why bother?" said Dean, starting up the motor. "It's not like she deserves our help."

"No, matter how horrible she is, she doesn't deserve too die!" Sam exclaimed, as Dean drove down the road. "Seriously, I think there's something wrong with you. How much sleep have you been getting?"

"Plenty!" Dean practically shouted. "I'm fine, really."

"If you say so." Sam said, settling back into the seat, and the rock music pounded out of the speaker; Dean probably just had one too many of those deep fried thing he eats., but Sam could help the niggling feeling, at the back of his mind, that he'd forgotten something...

* * *

**I actually have the next chapter planned out, so it won't be too long. Then again, that's what I told myself about this one... Please don't kill me O.O**

**Also, I anyone wants to darw me a femchester cover pic on deviant, I'd be really grateful. I'm too lazy to do it myself, plus my scanner's broken :P  
**

**PLEASSSEEE REVEIWWWW!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Happy New Year! I'm not dead! YAAAYYYY!**

**Disclaimer: i don't own SPN**

* * *

Sam Winchester had seen many things. Since he was a child, he'd faced ghosts, vampires, demons... He'd been the vessel of Lucifer, gone a year without his soul... Seen his girlfriend burst into flames above him as blood dripped from a gash in her stomach, seen both of his parents die before his eyes... But _never_ had he seen his older brother, _Dean Winchester_, cleaning.

"Dean! What are you doing?!" Sam exclaimed; he had been gone for five minutes to re-load his gun, and had come back to find his feminine brother, in a cloud of dust, actually _cleaning_ out the Impala.

"Well when was the last time I gave my baby, here, a proper clean?" said Dean, throwing out some old beer cans and bullet shells. "She must have been choking on all the crap that's in here."

"Dean, you never clean!" Sam said, wide-eyed at what his brother was actually doing. "You'd rather stare at a wall all day, than clean something!"

Dean shrugged, emerging with his arms full of old porn magazines. "Just had this urge that it needed doing, you know?"

"Riiighhhhhht..." said Sam, dragging out the word. "I'll be right back."

The younger Winchester ran back upstairs to the flat, slamming the door behind him, before taking out his cell phone and picking 'Bobby' on speed dial.

"Hello?" A grumpy voice answered, after the forth ring.

"Bobby! It's me, Sam! I need to know if there are any side effects to that spell!"

"What, why?" said Bobby, lodging the phone between his ear and shoulder, before grabbing the old book off the shelf and flicking to the correct page.

"Well, it's just that Dean's been acting a little... weird." Sam explained, praying that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Weird how?"

"Well, you know..." Sam started, feeling more awkward by the second. "Mood swings, sudden urges to clean..."

Suddenly the sound of raucous laughter echoed down the line. "You thing he's got PMS!" Bobby gasped, through chuckles.

Sam shuffled his feet and ran a hand through his much longer hair, "He is a woman now..." he trailed off.

Bobby shook his head and slammed the book on the table; Sammy could be a little naive at times. "You're not proper women, Sam!" Bobby exclaimed, still grinning his head off at the thought of a hormonal Dean. He said down a few passages in the book. "Yup, says here, you might experience a few new hormones, cos of the sudden change. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, thank God," Sam said, sighing in relief. "Well, bye. We've got a ghost to catch."

"See ya!" said Bobby. He put the phone down and shut the book. "Idjits," he muttered, before grabbing another beer from the fridge.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: i don't own spn.**

** Sorry it's sooooo late :P my excuse: gcse exams, though in reality im just really lazy. It's just part of my genetics, okay!  
**

* * *

"Everything okay there, Sammy?" a feminine voice called, just as Sam put down the phone. The younger Winchester jumped and whirled around to see his older brother... sister... whatever standing in the doorway.

"What?!" he blurted, hoping to god dean had not heard his conversation with Bobby. "Yeah... fine!" Dean walked further into the room, eyebrows raised at the phone, still in Sam's hand. "I was just... um... getting some tips off Bobby." Sam added quickly.

"Sam, we already know everything about ghosts!"

"Yeah... well... never hurts to have a second opinion." Said Sam, giving his brother a half-hearted smile.

Dean nodded slowly, still looking a little disbelieving. "Right, well, anyway... I was thinking about this ghost son-of-a-bitch, why'd he wait until now to attack Sophie?"

"I was wondering that, too," said Sam, relieved that his brother had changed the subject. He grabbed his laptop from the table, and opened it. "Didn't she recently dump her boyfriend?"

"What? So the ghost doesn't like other company?" Dean asked, before frowning. "Do you think one of us will have to go alone?"

Sam paused, scanning through the text on his screen. "No," he said, suddenly. "Back in 1987, _two _women were found dead, in the flat."

"So, just men?"

"Or women without sophisticated jobs," said Sam, closing his laptop. "We're gonna have to put on some disguises if we want the ghost to show up."

"Great," said Dean. "So no chance of you letting me ditch this spell, so you can go solo?"

Sam grinned, "No chance."

"Ah, well," Dean sighed, standing up. "I gonna go make some new ID cards, before we have to go save this Britney bitch. We've got until dark, right?" Sam nodded. "Right, you go get us some formal clothes. Make us look like journalists, or something."

"Got it."

"Oh, and Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I am not wearing a skirt." Dean finished, before leaving the room.

* * *

Sam chucked the bags of clothes on his bed, while Dean lay on the other, loading his gun with rock salt.

"Dean," said Sam, suddenly. "I've just thought; we're gone have to put on make up."

"Shouldn't be too hard," said Dean, picking up a bottle of mascara. "Girls do this all the time."

"But they've had practice," said Sam. "And we have to look sophisticated."

Dean shrugged, and headed over to the mirror. He unscrewed the top, brought the wand up to his eye and immediately splotched mascara all over his face.

"Shut up, and pass the wipes." Dean snapped, as Sam snorted with laughter. "Maybe I should try the eyeliner first." He said, once he'd wiped the black goo off.

"Suit yourself," said Sam, stilling grinning as he passed the pencil over.

Dean tugged it over his eye lid, and swore when it ended up uneven and blotchy. "Why the hell is this so hard?!" he exclaimed, pulling out another makeup wipe, as Sam stuffed his fist in his mouth to stop him laughing. "I can do this, okay!" said Dean, angrily.

After about an hour of Dean swearing, while Sam did more research, Dean cried out, having finished his makeover. "There, done. What do you think, Sammy?"

Sam looked up, and then flinched away quickly, gulping down his childhood fear. "You look like a clown," he said, quietly.

Dean looked back in the mirror. His cheeks were bright pink, his eyes covered in blue eye shadow, and his lips bright red. He sighed and grabbed another makeup wipe, "I might have used a bit much."

Sam snored, "Understatement of the year. Maybe we should get it done by a professional."

"But that cost money!" Dean exclaimed, frowning at the multicoloured smear across his face, caused by the makeup wipe.

"We have to look sophisticated, Dean." said Sam.

Dean sighed, "Fine, but you're paying." He said, before chucking his used wipes at his brothers face.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Once again, I have to express my deepest regret that I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

Once again, the Winchester brothers/sisters stood awkwardly together, glancing around for help and wondering what the hell to do.

In front of them, a middle aged, fat woman was busy getting her makeup done by a nineteen year old girl, whose hair was pulled tightly back from her face in a long, blond pony tail. She wore large hoop earrings and her face was heavily made up. Not the type of girl the younger Winchester usually got along with, but at least she seemed to know what she was doing, Sam thought.

The middle-aged lady got up and left, without so much as a thank you to the girl. She sighed and turned to the Winchesters. "So, who's first?" she said, through a mouthful of gum. Sam was unsurprised when Dean shoved him ahead.

The girl gestured to the seat and Sam sat down stiffly, just remembering to cross his legs, as females seemed to do.

"Have anything in mind?" The girl asked, riffling through the many bottles of foundation to find Sam's skin tone.

"No, just... err... just something formal. You know?" Sam stuttered eyeing the bottles fearfully. "I've got somewhere to be..."

The girl nodded and went ahead with slapping brown goo across his face. Then she picked up something that looked like a torture instrument.

"What the hell is that?!" Sam exclaimed, pushing himself further into the back of the chair.

The girl frowned, looking at him as though he was possessed. "...an eyelash curler."

Sam glanced over at Dean, who was looking at the thing as though it was about to catch fire.

"Right... okay. It's just... err... I've never really used one before, you know?" said Sam, trying to calm himself down.

"Okay..." said the girl, still looking at him weird. "Just hold still, okay?" And she proceeded to grasp Sam's eyelashes between the instrument, while the terrified man/woman sat like a rabbit in headlights, terrified she would rip out his eyelashes. After what felt like years, she released them and started applying mascara. Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

The next half hour was taken up by Dean snickering, Sam glaring at him and Sam wondering what the fudge the woman was putting on his face, before she finally held up a mirror in front of his face.

The younger Winchester stared at his reflection. At his smoky eyes, curly eyelashes, bronzer, that highlighted his high cheekbones, and dark red lipstick. He had to admit it; he pulled off a pretty good woman.

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Jesus, Sammy. If you can look like that, imagine how hot_ I'm_ gonna look." Then he grinned and swaggered over to the seat like he owned the place.

* * *

The impala pulled up outside 213 Elm Street and Dean handed Sam his fake journalist badge.

"Can't believe that bitch moved in already." Dean muttered, getting out of the car. "The girl only died a weak ago!"

"And was only found yesterday," Sam added, following suite.

The Winchesters walked up to the door, adjusting their blouse collars as they went, and buzzed the intercom.

"What?" Britney's voice answered.

Dean gritted his teeth while Sam did the talking. "Hi! We're reporters. Here to ask you a few questions about Sophie McMillian."

"Well thanks, but no thanks."

"You'll get your face in the paper." Sam added, quickly. There was a pause before a loud beep was heard and the door opened, allowing them entry to the haunted flat.

* * *

**I'm sorry this is late.**

**BTW, if you're into youtube comedy vids, I have a youtube channel: channel/UCJtT47q-1iqv9ckvYJqqsLg**

**And a vid where I talk about procrastination (featuring me dressed up as Sam, Dean and Cas ;D ) : watch?v=FEbkK65UVXI**


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